


Morning

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Challenge Response, Episode Related, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2000-06-11
Updated: 2000-06-11
Packaged: 2018-11-11 04:16:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11140857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Ray Kowalski in dreamland.





	Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).
    
    
    Morning
    Veronika S
    
    Comments: The following was written in response
    to the "Night Before Asylum Challenge" issued on Serge in July 1999.
    This is my first effort at slash fiction, and only my second effort overall,
    so please be kind, but honest. Please ask for permission before archiving.
    
    Rating: R. Implied m/m interaction.
    
    Spolier warning: Asylum
    
    Summary: Ray Kowalski in dreamland.
    
    Disclaimers: The following is written purely for the enjoyment of fans
    and may not be reprinted or used in any way for profit. All characters
    are the property of Alliance Communications. No copyright infringement
    is intended. 
    
    Morning
    by Veronika S
    
    He was floating.
    
    He was cocooned within soft sheets and even softer arms. Warm, safe,
    secure, not just in body but in spirit. There was a security in waking
    up like this. Odd, that as children we are encouraged to learn to sleep
    on our own, yet when we grow up, the best way to cope with the adult
    world is to find someone to cuddle with every night. 
    
    And that someone, the Other One, was here.
    
    He ran his hand down the Other One's back. It wasn't skin, it was silk.
    The Other One's hands returned the caress, massaging the spot between
    his shoulder blades which always seemed tense and was never relieved.
    
    He sighed his contentment as the tension melted under the skillful strokes.
    He turned his head just enough to let his lips graze the skin. To show
    his appreciation, he kissed upward as far as he could reach without moving
    the rest of his body, then back down to where he started. The hands never
    stopped, they just broadened their range, sliding over his ribs and combing
    through his hair. 
    
    Shifting his head a little more, he worked his face into in his favorite
    place. That space just beneath the collar bone where he could just tuck
    himself away and feel safe. Yeah, it was a bit like an ostrich sticking
    its head in the sand and hiding from the world, so what? 
    
    But he couldn't stay hidden. The Other One, the one with the perpetually
    moving hands was seeking him out. One hand gently pulled at his hair,
    forcing him to tilt up his head. Briefly, his eyes opened, only to flutter
    closed again as the Other One's cheek, nose and lips rubbed against his
    forehead. 
    
    Then the kisses began. Forehead, nose, cheeks. All were reverently kissed.
    He moved to participate, stretching his neck to reach those lips. The
    Other One chose to ignore his need. Taking advantage of his new position,
    the other one dropped down to kiss his neck, shoulders, and finally,
    that same place he favored just below the bone. Through it all, the Other
    One's hands never stopped moving. 
    
    A soft moan escaped his throat.
    
    The hands were around front now. Fingertips skimmed his chest, moving
    over, then circling around his nipples. Lower to his stomach, his muscles
    contracted involuntarily at the other one's touch. Desperate to reciprocate,
    he tightened his arms around the other one's body. He leaned in and began
    to kiss the other one's skin, hoping his lips would be enough to convey
    his feelings. 
    
    He gasped at the first touch to his cock. He hadn't even been aware of
    his arousal until that first brush of skin on skin. He moaned again and
    lost his grip on the Other One. Overcome by ecstasy, he slipped to his
    back, his head falling back on to the pillows. The Other One chucked
    at this, but he was too far gone to care. 
    
    Oh, those hands...those skillful hands...
    
    Minutes, hours, or days later he descended from his climatic high. He
    opened his eyes for a second time, daring a glimpse at the Other One
    who had loved him so thoroughly. The glowing face that looked back was
    truly the face of love. 
    
    Love.
    
    Bells...sirens...alarm...phone...ringing. The cell phone ringing. Without
    knowing how it happened, the phone appeared in his hand and was brought
    to his ear. 
    
    "Yeah?"
    
    "It's 8:30 in the a.m. detective and I don't see you," Lt. Welsh said
    in an annoyed tone that cut though Ray "Vecchio" Kowalski's fuzzy head.
    "You do have work to do here." 
    
    "Yeah, yeah, I just overslept, sir. I'll be there in half an hour." 
    
    "I'll be counting the minutes." Welsh ended the wake-up call with a click.
    
    He switched off the phone and looked down at his hands, knowing they
    were the hands of his dreamed Other One. 
    
    Ray flung the phone on the nightstand and looked around. The warmth,
    safety and security was gone. The cold reality of sweaty sheets, flat
    hair and a crumpled pillow in his arms took hold. He had woke up like
    this before. In the weeks following his separation from Stella such dreams
    had been a nightly occurrence. Before their marriage, even as a teenager,
    he would dream of her, only her. 
    
    But the dream face had changed. Now, dark hair took the place of a golden
    mane; solid muscles replaced soft curves and in his mind, a deeper voice
    whispered his name. 
    
    He was in love again.
    
    With Benton Fraser.
    
    


End file.
